


It’s Very Cold Out Here, Skating Too And From The Enemy

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Arguing, Cuddles, Fic Exchange, For Allie!, Ice Play, Ice Skating, Ice rink, Light Angst, M/M, Nick sucks at this, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Secret Santa, Simon’s a show off, Singing, Taunts & Insults, Winter, frost - Freeform, men kissing, serenades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Unbeknownst to Nick, Simon’s a magnificent ice skater. Infuriatingly to Nick, he is not.
Relationships: Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	It’s Very Cold Out Here, Skating Too And From The Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allmywill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/gifts).



> Part of my Christmas fic exchange! A little secret Santa NiSi gift for Allie, Merry Christmas! 🎄
> 
> Title taken from Jona Lewie’s _Stop The Cavalry. ___

“How did you get so good at this?”

“How dare you question my ability, St Nick, to do, _anything!_ ”

There was a hesitation, a low whistle thrumming between the two.

“Nick? Again, did you seriously just question me and my—”

“—It’s not common knowledge that you can ice skate like that!” Nick’s breath hitched as he fell into Simon’s frame, who caught him with an infectious laugh. “You belong on the figure skating team, all sparkly. I’ll let you borrow a tutu.”

“Blimey!”

Nick coughed, eyeing the larger man. “You’re picturing me in that tutu now, aren’t you?”

“It’s pink and frilly… You bought it up!” Simon sniggered, giving Nick a sideways glance.

Nick simply lurched forward, or skidded, and clutched at the side of Simon’s coat even tighter, failing miserably at steadying himself.

“And _you’re_ the frosty one, ha!” Nick skidded straight out of Simon’s grasp, within moments he was in a heap on the floor, trying to act cool and composed. Ice cold.

Simon was looming over him, then he picked up speed. Within moments, he was gliding around Nick in a small circle, laughing. Goddamnit, but did the bastard have a beautiful laugh.

“Are you going to help me up?” Nick asked, shakily raising to his knees. He skidded again, chest colliding with the ice. Simon just laughed louder in response.

Simon began to skate away, inch by inch, his pace slow yet still Nick couldn’t keep up. He clambered to his feet; the ice crunching under his skates and beginning to seep through his trousers. He cursed, slipping again, not having Simon to latch onto before hitting the ice.

Nick hit the ice with another thud, and Simon was immediately back at his side. Howling.

“For Christ’s sake, Charley! Are you just going to stand there and gawk?!” The smaller man asked, tone bitter.

With a roll of his bright blue eyes, Simon extended an arm and helped heave Nick up to standing. Together, the pair were anything but graceful. Simon noted the change of pace, having Bambi Nick tumbling about everywhere. It made him feel in charge, over protective. In power.

Simon sniggered at the naughty thought.

“C’mon! Even John can do better than you! And he’s got all the lanky limbs. Sir Lanky-lot, knight of the round rink.”

“Shut up.”

Nick was finally on his feet, arms outstretched and desperate to stay that way. He tapped his toe, gaining some momentum and began to tail Simon. He clutched to the rail along the way as Simon skated further from him in a brisk glide, and he wasn’t even looking where he was going. He miraculously had the most perfect spacial awareness, eyes locked on Nick’s hazel throughout his entire routine.

“If you want me, give me a sign!” He called. “I’ll _not_ catch you skatin’, even _further_ behind!”

A small fury washed over Nick’s face, as he attempted to ignore the accompanying ‘do-do’s.’ Simon was acting as though he owned the damn rink, twirling and throwing in the odd jump that caused Nick’s pinky lips to drop and for him to lose his footing again. With a small groan, he clung desperately to the side.

“Bloody skates. I knew I shouldn’t have let him take me skating.” He grumbled, earning a strange glance from a passerby. Nick simply pouted in silent retaliation, beckoning the woman to keep on skating.

She did, whirling away into a perfect spiral, much to both Nick’s relief and chagrin.

Nick had to hunt Simon down. He tried to chase Simon, he really did, both knowing that his efforts would prove futile. At one point Simon simply slipped past him, chuckling, having completed God knows how many laps of the rink. The bastard kicked some ice at Nick’s feet along the way to make his presence known. Simon was laughing, wild and free, the sounds were beautifully irritating as they dropped from his plush lips. 

“Alright, Charley! I give up, He began, voice gaining intensity as Simon slid back over to his frosty Nick-ers.

A devilish glint was forming in Simon’s beady eye, Nick inwardly groaned at the sly cock of those lips.

“Hang on a moment!” Simon bellowed, as though he was trying to alert the cavalry with his marching orders. “Did I… did I just, _don’t_ correct me if I’m wrong but,” he gestured wildly, shimmying up on Nick’s left side. “Did my darling Nichol- _arse_ just admit defeat?”

Nick pouted.

“His inferior state?”

Nick cocked a brow.

“His vulnerability?!”

Nick whined.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” Nick glared at him, still pouting. “You’re better than me, whatever.”

Simon’s infuriatingly merry laughter sounded again. Leaning down to place a gloved hand on Nick’s snowy shoulder; Simon pressed his cool lips up against Nick’s flaming cheek. Flaming from embarrassment, he was sure.

“I shall mark my calendar, the day Nicholas James admits defeat!” He sang, eyes stupidly wide. Nick simply growled, about ready to tackle him into the side of the rink. Shove Simon over the edge of the bar and whack him with one of those helper penguin things.

He very nearly did.

To calm himself down, Nick just folded his arms, raising a blonde eyebrow. Simon was smirking, Nick could freaking _hear_ his smirk, the bastard. 

“No shit, Simon. _Wanker_.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever!” He sniggered. “Now, will you stop pussy footin’ around and let me _help_ you, already?”

Nick wanted to relent, though he was being stubborn about it. He shunned himself away as Simon shimmied over, arms open, muttering a show tune. Nick twirled about, getting a stomach full of railing, as Simon again tried to envelope him in a bear hug. He whined, desperate to fight the puddle he was melting into; as Simon retaliated with quick kisses to his cheeks. His lips were anything but cold, Nick was burning up beneath him. 

“ _Dead as a doornail_.” Simon uttered, pulling away as Nick hastily span back around.

“Pardon?”

“Real articulate.” Simon bulldozed straight over Nick’s protestations. “Charles Dickens? Come on Nicky, that one was obvious. It’s Christmas.”

“I know it’s Dickens you… you… _hard and sharp as flint,_ Simon, you.”

“Hard, huh?” He was smirking, Nick followed his eyes downward…

Before Nick could voice another retort about his literacy ability, or the likelihood of Simon’s erection pressing up against Nick’s hip, Simon slid in beside him and wrapped his arm around him. He hauled Nick’s weight from the side of the rink and, impossibly, Nick let himself just fall into Simon’s surprisingly still open arms.

“Don’t look down, if you look down you’ll fall.” Simon whispered into his ear, sending a shiver down the smaller man’s hunched spine.

Nick straightened up, suddenly he felt warm, supported. Simon’s nimble fingers spun him around so that he was behind him, back flush to Nick’s chest, and nudged him forward. He took the hint, clutching to Simon’s gloved hands as he pushed off: head held high.

“That’s it, there you go!” Simon chuckled, sliding them both further from the rink’s edge. “Wish I could be dancing now, in the arms of the Nick I love!”

“Shut up, Charley!”

Simon manoeuvred them both around the rink, slow and steady to let Nick’s beaten down confidence grow. His hands were teasing, pesky, running up and down Nick’s sides that he nearly lost balance a couple of times. Simon always caught him. Made a crude joke about Nick always needing his _hands_ on him. Simon would always catch him.  
  


***  
  


“That’s it, you’re getting it. You’ll make the figure skating team in no time.”

“Piss off!” Nick shot back.

“You’re not quite Olympics standard though, yet.”

Another couple minutes of Nick hobbling along and he had had it.

“That’s it, you’re getting it Simon.”

“ _What_ am I getting?” Simon sniggered over his shoulder, pressing himself further into Nick’s heat.

Stabilising them both before picking up speed; Simon span Nick around with such a force that he wasn’t expecting. 

“Bastard!”

Simon conceded his point, smirking. “Yeah, well. You want to fall flat on that pretty face instead, Nicky?”

Nick gripped him tighter in response, angling his head up to take in those shining blue eyes. “Why not.”

Nick’s small hand snaked it’s way up Simon’s back, through his blonde hair before yanking his head down, with force, to crush their lips together. He felt Simon buckle, his balance faltered as he fell into Nick’s tiny frame: sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Sweet Lord!” Simon chuckled as he pulled away from his face full of frosty Nicholas and ice. “Damn! That’s another bomb on another town. Whilst the controller and Johnny have tea!”

“Stop singin’ Jona Lewie.”

“I can sing… Are you hanging up the stocking on your—”

“—Simon!”

Simon was atop of him, limbs sprawled and blades dangerously close to cutting his leg. He had his head resting on Nick’s chest which shook as he laughed.

Inhaling a stupidly large breath, Simon pretty much belted: “It’s Christmaaaaaaaaaaaasss!”

“Blimey, Simon. It’s you, _you_ who wants to fall flat on that face—”

“—Oh, hush.”

Nick was cut off with a yelp, then a moan that was swallowed by Simon. There they lay atop of the ice, it seeping through their clothes and causing shiver after shiver. Not that Nick could feel it, he was too busy falling deeper into the warmth on those lips, the warmth building in his stomach as Simon shifted, blanketing him with his lean silhouette.

They broke away, panting, both sets of eyes never leaving the glimmer in those before them. Both lips were chapped and swollen, both cheeks tinted red.

“Come on, get up. You’ll freeze if you don’t move.”

At the raise of a sardonic blonde eyebrow, Nick held out a deft palm. Though it was a struggle, slipping and sliding everywhere, they both made it to standing. Simon held out his hand which Nick again took, motioning to the edge of the rink.

“I think we’ve had enough fun for one bitter night, don’t you agree Charley?”

Simon raised a brow, lip quirking up to a naughty degree. “Not if I can help it! You’ll have to catch me first!”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“—I will _Stop The Cavalry!_ Whoosh!” And without another breath, Simon had dashed aside. Flying around the rink with twirls and glides. Nick couldn’t help but stare in awe of him, perhaps in jealousy too. Though really, he found that he didn’t mind waiting that much longer; watching Simon’s ice-capade.


End file.
